Tumbling Down
by OverTheStars87
Summary: The Second War has come. The fight between good and evil. Harry must prepare, but the prophecy is still heavy on his shoulders. ...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... Will he be able to overcome hi
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"_Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. _

_The really great men must, I think, have a great sadness on Earth." Feodor Dostoyevsky _

He couldn't believe how good she felt in his arms. The smell of her hair - cinnamon, maybe - wafted through the air over to her. His fingers slowly grazed the skin of her arm, up and down in a hypnotic rhythm. Her breathing and his were as one; the hair in front of her face quivered in the slight breeze of her breathe. He stared at her closed eyes, his own half open as he tried to keep away sleep.

Their bodies were merely inches apart as they both lay on bed. He didn't want to leave her, just stay there and gaze at the view, but he knew he had to. Before this ever happened they decided that even if they fell asleep together, they would never wake up next to each other.

Slowly, reluctantly, he disentangled himself and pulled the blankets off of himself. She murmured softly in her sleep, but didn't wake up. He put on his shirt and pants, then wrapped his robe around him. He leaned over and kissed her closed eyelids. She stirred but didn't wake, and he pulled the sheet up to her bare shoulders.

Tiptoeing quietly to the door as to not wake her, he wrapped his hand around the doorknob and cast one last glance across the room at her sleeping body. He slipped through the doorway and began the long walk back.

* * *

Harry woke with a start, fully clothed and in the library. Ron was in the chair beside him, his head cradled in his arms and fine line of spit from the corner of his mouth to his sleeve. Harry yawned, stretching his arms over his head. Apparently, the all night study for Snape's test was not a success. Glancing at his watch, he saw he had just enough time for a quick shower.

He slung his bag on his shoulder and gave his friend a quick shove. A moan sounded from the ginger head, and Ron looked up at Harry. "Are we still in the library?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"Indeed we are," Harry answered. He stuffed the loose parchments on the table into his bag. "Come on. If we hurry we can grab a shower and get to class."

"Alright." Ron grabbed his things off the table and stood up. The side of his hair stuck up and his robes were wrinkled. They hurried out of the library and up to the Gryffindor common room.

On the way up the Grand Staircase they ran into the third member of their usual group, Hermione. She was already dressed, hair perfectly quaffed and bag slung elegantly slung over her shoulder. She had really into her own over the summer between fifth and sixth year, Harry had noticed; people other than just him noticed, but no one ever voiced their findings.

"Where were you two last night?" she asked them with a condescending tone in her voice. "We have a test in Potions today. Advanced Potions."

"We were in the library studying all night," Ron countered. "What were you doing all night?"

"I don't need to pull all nighters. I actually pay attention in class."

"Well, we have to get cleaned up," Harry said before there was too much bloodshed. "We'll see you in class, Hermione."

"Will you be at breakfast?" she asked as she continued her way past them down the stairs.

"Maybe, but I doubt that we'll have time. See you." Harry quickly ascended the steps toward the common room.

"Bye, Hermione," Ron called as he followed his friend up the stairs. He quickened his paced to catch up with Harry. "So what's the rush?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He pushed a small gaggle of second years out of his way. "I just need to take a shower is all."

"You took one last night right before we started studying."

"I need time to change my robes."

"That'll take you all of two minuets."

"Well, I've decided to take more pride in my appearance. I'm a good looking guy; I just have to show it."

"Mmhmm." Ron cast a side glance at his friend but didn't reply. They took a corner and he nearly ran over Harry, who had stopped in the middle of the hall, openly staring ahead of him. Ron followed his line of sight.

Ron's only sister, Ginny, stepped out of the portrait hole, thanking the Fat Lady as she swung closed. Harry's head tilted to the side slightly as he watched her hair bounce off her shoulders, the way her jumper clung to the delicate curves of her body through her open robes, the graceful strides her long, delectable took.

Harry snapped himself out of the daze. "G morning Ginny," he called, forcing his legs to move towards her. She stopped and smiled at him.

"Good morning Harry, Ron. Another all night study session?" "Yeah. So are you going down to breakfast? That's where we're going. To breakfast."

"I was planning on it."

"Great, let's go." Harry turned toward the Grand Staircase.

"Are you coming, Ron?" Ginny asked. Ron had remained silent for the whole of the conversation, staring at his friend in amused wonder.

"I'll be down in a few minuets. Save me a place."

"Alright. See you." She turned and walked over to the door. Harry went to follow her, but Ron grabbed his arm.

"That was really suave. Quite debonnaire, I must say."

Harry's cheeks darkened to a scarlet blush. "Was it obvious?"

"Yes," Ron said bluntly. "But go on ahead." He let go of his friends arm. "Just be careful," he added. "I may love you like a brother, but she's my little sister. My only sister."

Harry smiled and walked over to the spot where Ginny waited for him. Ron shook his head and disappeared into the portrait hole.

* * *

Her eyes followed his every movement; his hands that touched her not so long ago as they held his utensils, the lips that caressed her skin so softly as they stretched into a smile. Everything else in the Great Hall melted away and became silent. 

Oh, how she longed to have his arms around her body right then. To look deeply into his eyes and see all the answers to the questions she hadn't dared to ask. To feel his skin presses tightly against her own.

Most of all she wanted to wake in the morning and have him beside her; listen to the gentle metre of his breathing as light broke over the horizon. She wised that she could rush over to him and kiss him with all the passion that burned inside her, in front of the students and the teachers and the world.

His eyes met her from across the Hall, and he gave her smallest wink of recognition, setting her heart aflutter. He went back to laughing and eating along with his fellow house mates. Sound filled her ears once again. She folded her arms on the table and dropped her head in their crook, biting her lips to keep the scream of frustration from escaping.

Tonight they would have a long talk about their relationship. Before they got preoccupied with other things.

* * *

"May I have your attentions, please." 

Dumbledore stood in front of the students in the Great Hall. Light glinted off his glasses and the ever present twinkle in his eyes was absent. "I hate to disturb your meal, but I have some rather disheartening news. I am displeased to inform you that the trip to Hogsmeade this weekend has been cancelled."

A roar of unhappiness erupted from the students and filled the Hall. Dumbledore waited a moment, then raised his hands for silence.

"Before you become fully displeased with me allow me to explain the situation. I have heard from my sources that Voldemort is beginning his plans for the Second War, and that new members of his following are and will to be there."

The angry murmur that had floated in the air was replaced by stunned and fearful silence. Dumbledore sadly surveyed the faces of his students, terrified and scared.

"And as much as you love to have a little time to yourselves off the grounds, I must have your safety as a first priority. I apologize. Please continue with your meal."

The food in Harry's mouth turned to sawdust, his fork became so heavy he could barely hold it up. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione also stopped eating and looked at him, concern reflecting in all of their eyes.

It was finally here. The Second War. The fight between good and evil. Harry thought he had been prepared for this, but the echoing words of his prophecy filled his mind. _...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... _He let out an involuntary shudder, his heart beating in the back of his throat.

Ron was as pale as Sir Nicholas; Ginny chewed her lower lip; Hermione looked as though she were about to cry. Against what he believed were his better judgement, over the summer Harry had told his friends about his prophecy. It seemed that they were recalling it then as well.

He swallowed the tasteless lump in his throat and placed his fork on his plate; his hand shook, and the metal pinged dully on the china. "I have to get to class," he said. He stood, slung his bag over his shoulder and hurried out of the Great Hall. Whispers and stares followed him until he was through the doorway.

* * *

The Potions test passed by with Harry barely realizing he was even taking it. He went through the motions of crushing his scarabs and cutting his ginger root. His potion was sky blue instead of black, and he spilt some on himself putting his potion into a vial. 

Snape sneered as Harry placed his potion on the desk. "Potter, if I administered this potion to someone who had been inflicted with the disease of a nundu, do you think it would save him?"

Harry shrugged and walked back to his cauldron. He took out his wand, and with wave it was spotless.

The bell sounded, and he left with a vacant look in his eyes, lost deep in his thoughts.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked as she jogged up along side him.

He looked over at her, his eyes looking through and beyond her. "Yes, of course I'm fine." His voice was low and dull. "I only have to deal with a homicidal psychopath that murdered my parents uprising with new minions coming to kill me in order to fulfill a prophecy. No sweat, right?"

"No one expects you to do this on your own. You have the Order with you, and don't forget about the D.A. either. They came through last year; they can do it again."

"Last year I gave them broken bones and mental wounds that may never heal. I'm not doing that again." He stared directly into her eyes. "Don't you have to get to Arithmancy?"

"Well, yes, but I can be a little late. I'll explain -"

"No, I don't want you to be late because of me. I can handle getting to my next class on my own; I'm a big boy."

Hermione stopped and watched her friend trudge down the hallway. A plethora of thoughts ran through her mind, bouncing off each other, their whispers overlapping and filling her mind. What was the use of being one of the brightest students in school if she couldn't use her knowledge to help one of her best friends? She'd have a talk with Ron to figure out how to handle Harry.

_Where_ is_ Ron?_ She looked around, but couldn't spot him among the huddled masses of people. _Maybe he's already at class. _She glanced at her watch and decided that she didn't have time to dwell on it. Milling over different plans to help Harry, she hurried along to Arithmancy.

* * *

He felt her heart beating faintly beneath her breasts as he pressed her against the wall of their secluded hallway, kissing her lips fiercely. He fed on the thrill of being with someone he wasn't supposed to, the risk of getting caught, the sheer taste of her. His lips traveled down her jaw line, down to the nape of her neck, massaging her delicate skin. 

She let a soft, low moan escape from her throat as a shudder of delight passed through her. Her finger wound themselves in his hair, loving the texture of his silky locks.

Still kissing her neck, his hands traveled down her body, slowly pulling her shirt out of her skirt. His hands slid along her stomach, tracing the delicious curves they discovered. He moved his hands until they cupped they soft swell of her breasts.

"Wait." She gently pushed him off of her. "We have to talk."

He stopped and looked her in the eye. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know if I can do this anymore." She pulled herself from the tight space between his body and the wall. "All this sneaking around and waking up without you next to me; I need something more than a cold imprint on the bed."

"When we started this we agreed to keep this just between us. We can't let anyone know."

She turned on him with fiery eyes. "Are you ashamed of me? Is that why you want to keep this under the rug? Because if you are -"

"Of course not. It's just... do you know what could happen is people got wind of this?"

"I couldn't care less what people think. It's not their life."

"I don't want you to get hurt. I love you too much to let anything happen to you."

She was silent for a moment. "You love me?"

He walked up to her and took her head in his hands. "Do you think that I would even be here if I didn't care about you? I'm not like that."

"But you're not willing to tell people about us?" Her eyes shone with tears.

"I don't want anything to happen to you. I couldn't-"

She put her fingers to his lips, stopping his words. Tears escaped from her eyes, leaving shining trails on her face. "I love you too, but I can't keep it a secret." She kissed him, leaving him with the salty sweet taste of her sadness lingering on his lips. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and rushed out of the corridor.

He felt his heart snap in two and tears threatened to surface. _How stupid can I be?_ He slid down the wall, his broken heart thundering in his chest, wishing he could run after her. He wanted to hold her and apologize until the sun went black, but that voice in the back of his head told him to stay. No good could come from a relationship like that.

He pressed the back of his head into the cold stone wall. _How can love be anything _but_ good?_


	2. Chapter 2

"_Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true happiness."  
_–_Bertrand Russell_

Along with having that Hogsmeade visit canceled, the students were displeased to hear that all visits would be canceled indefinitely. The Gryffindor students crowded around the message board to read the bulletin, grumbling to the people around them. Hermione sat in a chair by the fireplace with Harry and Ron, leisurely reading a book as the other two scrambled to finish an essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts that was due the next morning.

"I know I've beaten this into both of your heads, but why didn't you just do it when you first got it, like normal people do?"

"Because," Ron said as he flipped through his textbook, "we've had Quidditch practice. Our first game is on Saturday." He stopped turning the pages and looked at the other students, annoyed. "I don't why they're so surprised. It was kind of obvious that You-Know-Who would rise again. I mean, after what happened at the end of last year, it was only - OW!"

Hermione glared at Ron, who rubbed his shin. "That was completely unnecessary," he snapped.

"Harry doesn't need to hear about last year again, you dolt."

"He's fine. Honestly, you are so overprotective."

"I am not; you are just insensitive to Harry feelings."

"Harry's still in the room, so you don't need to talk as if he isn't," Harry interjected.

Hermione blushed slightly. "Sorry."

Ron stood up. "I can't take all the noise in here; I'm going to go to the library. I'll see you at Quidditch practice, Harry." He took his roll of parchment and left the common room.

"Hermione, could you do me a favor and read over my paper, just to check for mistakes?" Harry asked.

"Of course. Let me see it." He handed it to her and sat back in his chair. Hermione's eyes quickly scanned over the words. She glanced up and saw Harry looking at her, a look of indecision on his face. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Harry looked a bit startled. "No," he replied quickly.

"Are you sure?"

"Do you know if Ginny is dating anyone?" Harry blurted out.

"What?" Hermione put down Harry's essay and sat up. "Where did that come from?"

Harry's face turned deep scarlet. "Well, I know that you and Ginny have become good friends, so I assumed that you would know if she did or not."

"I got that part; I'm just surprised that you would want to know. Why, do you like her?"

"No. I'm just looking out for her. I don't want her mixing with a bad guy... she's like a sister... and um..."

"You like Ginny!" Hermione smiled.

"Will you keep your voice down? I don't want the whole house to know, thank you very much." He glanced around as if the room had suddenly turned silent and everyone was listening in on the conversation.

"Well, she hasn't said anything to me about a new boyfriend. But, you know she kind of lost interest in you after the whole Cho thing."

"Oh, right." Harry face sunk a little bit.

"But what I do now is that right about now, she should be reading a book by the lake. She likes how quiet it is out there. You should be able to catch her." Hermione smiled at him again.

Harry scrambled out of his chair and rushed to the portrait hole. "Thanks so much, Hermione; you're the best," he called after him.

She picked up his essay and sat back in her chair. "Boys."

* * *

She walked past their hallway. (No, there was no more _their_ anything) A hand grasped her arm and pulled her into the shadows. "We have to talk," he said. He took her to the room where they (used to) explored each others' bodies. A simple bed, a few candles, a window through which she could see black clouds and rain pouring down; all of it brought back memories she struggled to push away. "I miss you."

She pulled her arm from his hold. "Don't you dare," she hissed. "We had conditions, I wanted to break them, you didn't; end of story." Her voice was curt, and her eyes cold. She was trying beyond all reason not to jump into his arms and kiss him, to finish what they started those few weeks ago. Every time she saw him in the halls, every time she woke from a memory of them together she wanted him back. "We each want different things and neither of us is willing to change."

"I know that you miss me, too," he said softly. "I can feel your eyes across the tables in the Great Hall and in the corridors."

"That doesn't matter. I can't be with someone who can't even tell his best friends about us. They would understand."

"Not those two. As much as I love you they wouldn't. They don't get that love doesn't look at which House you're in."

"Will you stop that!" she screamed.

"Stop what?"

"Saying that you love me. It's a lie."

His face fell. "How can you even say that? Of course it's not a lie."

"If you loved me we wouldn't be sneaking around at night in darkened corridors. We would be down by the lake together, or walking together through the halls; at least being seen in the day light with each other."

"You think I like it being this way? I don't. I would much rather be able to tell everyone about us than keep this bottled up inside." He walked over to her and put a hand on her face. "I can take care of myself, but I can't live with the thought of someone hurting you. I love you too much to let anything happen."

Merlin's beard, she'd missed the simple pleasures of having him touch her.

"I love you, too," she whispered, tears escaping her eyes.

And she was in his arms and they were kissing, and dear lord she missed how good this felt. She didn't care if anyone knew, she didn't care if she died with no one knowing they had been together; all she cared about was having him with her, in every way. She pulled off the robes that hindered her movements. She felt the desire and passion emanating from him; hers was just as intense. His mouth traveled all along her neck. His hands found their way beneath her shirt, traveled along her upper body, knowing exactly how and where to touch her.

It wasn't nearly enough. They were on the bed, with the full length of her body pressed beneath him. Their shirts were unbuttoned, and they slipped silently to the floor. She ran her hands along his taunt, creamy flesh, delighting in it's familiar feel. His lips moved down from her neck, over her chest, gently grazing her soft skin, kissing her stomach. She entangled her fingers in his hair as he slipped off her skirt.

His lips traveled back up her stomach, chest and neck, and he looked into her eyes. He kissed her lips, his tongue darting quickly between them. "I love you so much."

She didn't him to tell her that, she wanted him to show her. She let her legs fall open in an unneeded invitation and kissed him again. He unfastened his pants, and they became another pile on the floor. She could feel him against her, and she moaned and shivered in wondrous anticipation. The only thing between the two of them was a layer of flimsy cloth.

As his lips kissed her neck and chest with a skillful ease, his hands made their way down her body to remove that final hindrance.

For the love the founders, she could not believe how much she had missed him.

* * *

Harry ran to the lake, searching its shore for Ginny. The rain that had been coming down had ceased; it's moist smell still hung in the air. After a few moments of searching, he spotted her coming out of the castle. Trying to catch his breath and hoping that his face wasn't too flushed, he walked over to her with his best saunter.

But feelings welled up in his chest and before he could stop, Harry found himself yelling. "Hey, Ginny, over here!" and waving his arms over his head.

_That's it, Potter_, he thought to himself, _don't look _too _much like a complete idiot._

But as Ginny turned to him, he saw a smile on her face, and he felt a little bit better.

"Hey there, Harry. I didn't expect to see you out here."

"Yes well, it was so nice out I decided to take a little walk."

"It's been raining for the past five hours."

"Err... I like to go walking in the rain. It makes me feel so... alive and refreshed."

Ginny gave him an unimpressed side glance but didn't say anything. They made their way over to the tree that Harry, Ron and Hermione usually sat under to study on nice days. After about thirty seconds of awkward and uncomfortable silence, Harry piped in with an attempt at conversation.

"I see you have a book. Are you reading it?" _Stupidstupidstupid. _

"Uh... yes. That's what I usually do with a book. I like to sit outside and read; it's just so peaceful." They settled themselves under the tree and looked out at the lake for a moment, in which the giant squid was lazily skimming the water.

"So, what are you reading?" Harry asked, desperate not to look like a complete and utter moron.

"Just an old muggle book," Ginny replied, looking at the tattered paper back in her hands. "It's called _The Giver._ It's quite good; I think you'd like it, too." She looked down at his hands. "What are you reading?"

"Oh, nothing really. Just catching up on something I never got a chance to finish. I like to read outside, too."

"In the rain?" she asked, throwing Harry a skeptical look. She took the book from his hands, and her fingers brushed his; Harry could feel a heat rising in his stomach. "_Quidditch Through the Ages_?"

He stared at her blankly for a moment, scanning his mind for a cover story as Ginny handed the book back. "It is, but... I never really got chance to read it in it's entirety, so, you know."

She smiled at him, shaking her head slightly, and opened her own book. For the next ten or fifteen minutes they sat in silence; Ginny reading her book; Harry pretending to, glancing up to stare at her every thirty seconds or so.

Harry's eyes wandered over the words in his book without reading them, and amidst their wandering they fell onto his watch.

"It's almost time for quidditch practice; I have to go change." He closed his book and scrambled to his feet.

"I should get ready, too," Ginny said, putting her book into her side bag. Harry grasped her hand and pulled her to her feet.

For a moment, he thought of telling her exactly how he felt, right then and there. But instead he said, "I'll catch up to you at the locker room; I have to go and find... McGonagall."

"Alright. See you there, Harry." She turned and started walking to the castle.

Harry waited until she was out of sight, then he turned and slammed his head against the tree trunk. "Oh good going, Potter," he said aloud to himself. "I'm sure she was overly impressed with _that _performance Let's just hope that I didn't make it any worse." He sighed and rolled his neck, the rough bark rubbing against his forehead. "Oh, stupid, stupid, stupid!" With every word he struck the tree with his head.

Sighing again, he pushed away from the tree, rubbing his forehead. When he turned around he saw a small gaggle of first years staring at him, eyes wide.

"What!" he snapped.

They gasped and scurried up the path to the castle.

Harry picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. As he did so, he felt a drop of water land on the back of his neck. Looking upward, he saw the sky had become grayer, and raindrops speckled his glasses. Still rubbing his forehead and now in a thoroughly unhappy mood, he walked through the rain to the Quidditch pitch.

* * *

Ginny, Ron, and Harry walked into the common room wet, muddy, and with a gloomy look on their faces. Hermione looked up from the book she was reading as they all sunk into chairs by the fire. "I'll venture a guess and say that this practice wasn't the best?"

Ron just looked at her. "I'm awful. I couldn't keep a quaffle from going in to save my life." He wiped at the mud caked on his face. "Why did you ever put me on the team, Harry?"

"Because I know you're a great Keeper. All you have to do is have confidence in yourself. And not fall apart when someone watches you play."

"I couldn't if I wanted to."

"For heaven's sake, Ron," Ginny snapped, "I'm sick of your attitude! Harry's trying to help you, and you just sit there and act like you're the only one who's ever had a tough time."

"I'm sorry, but not everyone can have athletic ability like yours."

"Oh, come off it. I practice. When I have trouble getting something, instead of whining like a little girl, I work until I get it."

Ron opened his mouth, but she cut him off. "I'm going to take a shower." To Hermione and Harry she said, "I'll see you guys in the morning." And with that she walked out of the common room.

When she was through the portrait hole, Ron let out a sigh. "She's been so touchy lately; I have no idea what's wrong with her." He looked pointedly at Hermione.

"Don't make that face at me; she hasn't told me anything."

"Sometimes girls are just like that," Harry chimes in. "No offence to you Hermione; Cho was all over with her emotions a lot of the time."

"I'm too exhausted to worry about it," Ron sighed, pushing himself out of the chair. "I'm going to get cleaned up, too. I'll catch up with you later." Yawning and scratching his head, he left them alone by the fire.

Harry closed his eyes and stretched. When he opened them, Hermione was on the edge of her seat, looking at him expectedly. "Is there, uh, something I can help you with?"

"How did your little accidental run in with Ginny go? I wanted to wait for Ron to leave."

"He already knows. Apparently, only Ginny has no idea." He groaned. "It was awful. If she felt anything before, don't worry, I took care of it. It's long gone."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad."

"I told her I was reading a new book; _Quidditch Through the Ages_. Have you heard of it?" He slumped back in his chair.

Hermione smiled. "Aww, that's adorable."

"No," he said quickly, "no it's not. It's embarrassing."

"Not to girls. Or to me it is, at least."

"Oh, well, that helps. A little bit."

"I'll have a word with her. But I can't be too obvious. Although apparently, she's oblivious to everything. Who cares; I get to play matchmaker!" Hermione grinned and giggled.

"And on that note, I'm going to grab a shower, too. I'll see you at breakfast."

"G'night, Harry."

He got up and left Hermione to formulate her love plot for him.


End file.
